Grandchild of the Gods
by Golden Ichor
Summary: This is my first Fan Fiction story. It's the story of a child who discover himself as a half-blood. He later learns the secret of his family and goes on a quest. He actually has a connection with Percy and Annabeth. I hope you enjoy my story!


**This is my first Fan Fiction story, I hope you like it!**

**Chapter 1**

** My Language Arts Teacher Tries to Kill Me**

_Rrrrrrrrrrrr!_

I woke to the sound of the alarm a clock. I sat up, rubbed my eyes and looked around the large room to see the other kids just starting to get up. It was Monday, and it meant that it was the first day of school this week.

I got up, dressed, and headed to the boys' bathroom to brush my teeth. I opened the door and stepped onto the linoleum surface. It felt cool to my bare feet. It was still early, so there weren't a lot of people at the sinks quite yet. It's like a regular public washroom with stalls on one side and sinks on the other. The only difference was that it had lockers on one side. Then I went to my locker, entered the combination, and opened the small door. It was about the size of a locker you see at public swimming pools. I took out my tooth brush and tooth paste, then found my friend Jacob combing his hair, so I went to a sink that's beside him.

"Did you have nice dreams?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied. Jacob is my best and only friend. He can be very weird sometimes. I'm usually called a loser and is strongly avoided, and it's because I have ADHD and dyslexia. After all those years, I have depended on him as my only friend. I looked into the mirror at my reflection. I stared at my dark hair and stormy-gray eyes. It made me wonder who my parents were, because of those strange eyes.

My name is Percy. No last name. No middle name. Just Percy. I always wondered why, but people said it was only safe for me to know only my first name. I guess they were right. My father was a guerrilla fighter, and whoever captured him would love to use me to hurt him. Other than that I was only left with the story of my mother. She was said to be _kidnapped_ when some guy broke into the house with me and her in it. She was never seen by anyone after that. Her name was said to be Anna. Still just the first name. It always made me feel as if I am living the life of a stranger, knowing nothing about myself. I lived in an orphanage in New York ever since that day when my mom was captured.

After I washed my face and took a shower, I headed to the lower floor to start school. First class: Gym. I got changed and headed to the gym. We did some basketball. I'm okay at it. Later we played a game. My team lost 3:2. Next class was math. We were doing algebra and for what seemed like half the class Mrs. Bold screamed at us for getting such bad scores on our End of Unit Test. It's not our fault her math lessons turn into a war with students. The rest of the day went by pretty normally. That is, until last class, which was language arts. Believe me, if you were to ask me to at least not fail this class, I'd rather go feed myself to lions. That's because my dyslexia makes it hard for me to read, and you try to get a good mark when the words are floating away from your paper. Well, that's not the thing that troubled me today.

Anyways, our language arts teacher, Mr. Jones had asked a few kids to hand out this test we're having today on short stories. He said he got into a car accident and is paralyzed from his waist down. That's why he sits in a wheelchair. After I got my test, I stared at it. My dyslexia made it almost impossible to read the questions. So I just sat there, watching the time go by. After what seemed like half an hour I tried the test. When I just got finished question one, Mr. Jones called my name. I looked around. Jacob was looking from me to him with this panicked look in his eyes. I don't know what he would be afraid of. I walked up to Mr. Jones, hoping I wasn't in any trouble or anything.

"Mr.Percy, please follow me". He told everyone else in the classroom that he would be back in a few minutes, and to continue their tests until the end of class. Then he rode his wheelchair out the classroom and into the hall. I followed. Then Mr. Jones went faster and pushed opened the front doors, and out the orphanage. I broke into a run to catch up. After I got out the door I went down the stairs, seeing him going to the east side of the building. I wondered how he got down from the top, but remembered about the new wheelchair ramp that was built last month. The sky was clear, with no clouds. It's a beautiful April day in New York.

As he got to the corner of the school, instead of turning he went straight and across the street. He seemed to be getting faster and faster. I followed him past a few more neighborhoods with kids playing street hockey or biking. Our place was pretty close to the beach, so I wasn't surprised when we reached the ocean. I kept running, and I wondered why we were here. I thought he was going to talk to me or show me something. But being brought to the beach was something I hadn't thought of. After Mr. Jones went down the side of a hill and onto sand, he went on the side of the beach where it was made out of gravel. Then, to my amazement, he went into the water. Then he got stuck in the sand and slipped off his wheelchair and into the water. I ran after him to help, and went down the hill and across the sand.

When I got there, I stepped into the cool water and looked around his wheelchair, hoping he didn't drown or anything. I didn't find anything except his Irish kilt that must have fallen off or something because it was floating nearby. _That's strange, _I thought._ He just disappeared and all is left of him is some kilt._

I went into deeper water and looked around. The water came up to my waist. But there didn't seem to be any trace of him left.

Then suddenly, the water beside me erupted and out came Mr. Jones. Only he wasn't Mr. Jones. He still had his dirty sea-green hair, red eyes, and large ears. But he had no shirt on. Actually, he had absolutely _no_ clothing on, and what should have been his legs was a huge gray fish tail.

My eyes were wide with horror. I wanted to run, but immediately he grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me up to his face. His breath smelled like nothing I smelled before. It was like a hundred dead fish altogether. He stared into my eyes, and I could do nothing but look away.

"It was about time you confessed, Percy," he said in a raspy voice with a smirk. I had no idea what he was talking about. But I didn't care anyway since I just learned that my language arts teacher is a half man, half fish monster.

"Confess now, and I might let you live," he said.

"Um, Mr. Jones, I have no idea wha­­­­­­­­­—" I was stopped when he showed his teeth, and for the first time I realized they were pointed and razor sharp. No wonder he always covered his mouth when he talked. I thought he was going to bite my head off. He shot his head at me. I pulled back but his teeth got my arm. I pulled it away before he can bite it off. It was scratched pretty bad, and it hurts like the time when a kid was stabbing at his lunch with a sharp knife, and I walked by and the blade got caught in my bare arm, scratching it all the way to my elbow. I had to get surgery after that.

Mr. Jones was going to try again, but surprisingly, he stopped, sniffed the air for a moment, then turned his head toward land. I followed his gaze at what he was looking at, and gaped in shock. On the beach was Jacob, he had his baseball cap on and was holding a bottle of water in his hands. At least it looked like water to me. Then, to my amazement, Mr.Jones let go of my shirt and went to get Jacob and his bottle. I wanted to help him, but with a motion of his hands, Jacob told me to swim away. I swam in the other direction, which was hard because I was going against the waves. I held my breath and dived into the water, then swam as far as I can from shore. When I came up for air, I looked back. I was at least three hundred feet away. I saw Mr. Jones lying on the shore, drinking from the bottle, but did not see Jacob. I hoped he was okay. After that he looked at the empty bottle, then in my direction. I felt like I was going to faint. He then flopped into the water like a fish and I knew with his fish tail he can swim three hundred feet in just a few seconds. I forced myself to swim as fast as I can, but I knew it was hopeless. I looked back, and suddenly, something strange happened.

The waves seemed to be changing direction, and in a few seconds, a giant hole seemed to appear in the water. It was a whirlpool, about fifty feet in diameter. I knew it was impossible. I didn't think a whirlpool can appear in such shallow water. Then immediately I was pulled into the current. It was terribly strong. I fought with it, but it was hopeless. I saw Mr. Jones also in the whirlpool, closer to the center. I watched as he was sucked into the center and probably would drown or get squished into a ball by all that pressure. I closed my eyes, trying not to think it would also happen to me. But suddenly I stopped spinning and the water became calm again. I opened my eyes, and the whirlpool was gone.

Had I imagined the whole thing? No, wherever my ADHD was going, it will not make me imagine something like this. I looked at the cut on my right arm, which was still bleeding, and I suddenly realized how painful it was. I felt tired, nauseous, cold, and dizzy at the same time. I stopped treading water, and passed out.

**So this is my story so far. How do you like it? Please review! (Oh, and by the way, if you know what's going to happen, please don't post it, because it might ruin the story for others)**


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